Behind the Lock

by Wesley A. Bianchi

  “Well, at least it's water…” Dom said.

  “I believe it is the best time to wash the taste from your mouth,” Pedro held out his hands to catch the rain as Dom opens his mouth. The old man uses an empty container from the sack to store away the raindrops; Dom tried to wash away the bad taste from his mouth, as he feels content with the satisfying feeling of water.

  The men continue their journey west while walking under the storm; their minds were at rest for the moment, as the rainwater fulfills the wishes of the men from their heat exhaustion. Dom tries to stay conscious, long enough until they reach the end of their destination, so he tilts his face looking at the sky letting the water soothe his eyes.

  Grateful for the rainfall, Pedro refuses to stop and rest, as he knew it would benefit his companion from falling asleep.

  “Don’t fall on your knees; no delays shall occur,” Pedro stated.

  Chapter 7

  The Sandstorm of Flashbacks

  After a long walk across the heated desert, Dom ends up into total exhaustion as his body slowly gave up, making him collapse. Pedro rushes to assist his fallen comrade while reaching for a particular bottle from his sack. He lifts Dom onto his arm while pouring the medicine into his mouth.

  “Don’t let your soul fall into depths of despair, stay strong and awake boy!” The old man said.

  In his weak mind, Dom appeared aimlessly in a cemetery filled with endless gravestones wondering why he is there in the first place. He finds a willow tree close ahead of the path; walking through, the fog begins to surround the area covering the cemetery with its thickness.

  Dom approach what it looks like a tree with several nooses hung loosely in the air around the branches.

  “Why the hell am I here? Where is the old man?” Dom wondered. Suddenly, a little man-child crept out from a dying corner of the tree, in black-leather and tiny shoes. He wore a large fedora which covered most of his appearance except for his wide grinning lips.

  “This man…he appeared out from the tree, what kind of creature is he? What’s he doing in a place like this?” The unknown man begins to advance towards him; Dom steps back afraid of what is coming.

  “Ah! I can’t move!” Dom struggles to move his limbs, “Hehehe…” the small man chuckles while making a sinister smile that stretched across his face. For a moment, he sees multiple people hung by the nooses with the steady sound of blood dripping by the rope.

  Pedro could see Dom struggle in his conscious, hearing mumbling about a cemetery. Dom aggressively woke up sweating and almost out of breath, he looked around realizing it was a horrible nightmare.

  “Old man, did I almost die?”

  “You fell into an unconscious state due to the heat; you were close to dying if I hadn’t poured the medicine in time.” The old man notice distress in his eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “I saw this small man, but it wasn’t human, I think it was a creature sent from hell…it had this weird power and appearance…but those eyes.” Dom stood frozen without speech, his jaw wide open and his eyes were elsewhere as they stared into unreality.

  “Dom snap out of it!”

  “Sorry! I just spaced out for a second.”

  “I’m thankful the gods can spare your life once more...let us rest here.”

  After a few minutes of quick resting, the men continue walking across the dunes. On the way, Dom could not put this particular thought to rest as his mind kept seeing the image of the mysterious small man that he encountered in the nightmarish cemetery. After seeing its face, he believes his presence could possess the ability to haunt and pursue him beyond the sandstorm; the nightmare was a way to welcome him to its world.

  “Boy, the potion I gave you back in the forest will soon expire.”

  “Damn it…when do I expect to see father’s ghost again,”

  “In the upcoming night.”

  Dom remains speechless after hearing those few words, Pedro tries to apologize, but he notices the emptiness in his eyes, refusing to go any further.

  “We’ve finally arrived…” Both men stare ahead, finding the sandstorm covering the entire horizon. It was vast enough to block most of the west, too far to know what it is; bodies appear to be lying on drench sand.

  Moving closer, they were shocked at seeing the pile of human corpses stack one to another almost resembling a small foundation, even the great stench of rotting flesh and blood made Dom and Pedro pity for those who lost their lives.

  “The body count is unbelievable…how many died here?” Dom wondered.

  “In this world, the men butchered…were the past Mayans who fought and lost to defend their village from the greedy conquistadors.”

  “But why are the bodies here in the desert, if it all took place on the plains?”

  “The sandstorm brings countless corpses from several dimensions to dispose of their bodies after death, but the souls live beyond this hail of sand whether its heaven or hell.”

  Pedro equips his rifle and loads a few rounds, as Dom stares into the swirling sand finding nothing ahead but a blind path.

  “We are about to proceed, stick close until we reach the other side. It is dangerous to get lost in here, who knows what remains banished inside the storm.”

  Dom sticks to the old man; they both cover their faces using the scarfs to enter the sand block. Inside, the winds were so sturdy even the dust felt like bullets shooting out of a pellet gun.

  The old man held tight to the straps of his sack, trying to prevent the winds from stealing it away, but it was already too late as the straps snap to pieces pushing Pedro backward.

  “Old man!”

  “Leave it; we must move on!” Pedro said. The sack disappeared into the infernal dust, leaving a trail of supplies behind.

  “Hold on to me!” Pedro said. They walk across the storm sticking together while half-blinded by a hit of hurling sand. Their clothes were also slowly ripping apart as they walk further; even the ground itself was beginning to become overwhelming to walk on, between heat, and drowning sand.

  The pressure began to get stronger, as Dom felt his body start to exhaust and his feet hovering from the ground aggressively.

  Dom lost grip flying backward at a fast rate losing sight of Pedro completely; he fell to the sand while clawing his fingers into the superficies attempting to stabilize himself. Standing slowly, He looks around desperately seeking for his companion.

  “Old man! Where are you?” Gradually, he unknowingly wandered the storm without knowledge of any direction, fearing the sand will soon bury him along with the rest of the corpses.

  A moment later, he spots an opening just near. Thinking the old man made it; Dom regains confidence as his feet dug into the sand shifting quickly towards the exit.

  Getting out the sandstorm, the sun disguises itself behind the floating clouds, while the grey sky continues to carry the pouring rain. Dom examined the area seeing if Pedro is nearby, but fields of grass only caught his eyes and a house not too far stood with a brick walkway. The sound of sand diminishes, as the sandstorm began to disappear, letting in a full view of an empty flatland.

  Stepping closer to the house, Dom discovers his bag was empty except for two items, the machete, and saber. Dom was stun to think the blades would hold for such a fierce storm, especially when the bag almost tore from the top.

  The saber’s carvings revealed a surprising glow as it fades slowly into the weak light. Dom is amazed that a stray sword would be so enchanted, even though it belongs to his enemy Ramon.

  When arriving at the house entrance, it came to Dom’s attention

  “This looks familiar, have I been here before?” His mind began giving a blur vision of the past, making it unclear to specify a given point. After a few knocks, no answer came, Dom used the knob, but it did not work either since it was sealed shut. He decided to use force by kicking the door apart.

  “Old man! Are you in here?” There was a staircase leading to a closed door and a l
iving room separate from the kitchen.

  “This can’t be possible; it’s just too familiar,” Dom wonders around to explore the mysterious house, discovering a new unlock memory and realizing he used to live there once before in his childhood. The furniture in the living room was slowly rotting which reminded him of his father, using it to contain his hangover. The kitchen kept the smell, which was undeniable. Dom walks into the kitchen to find expired meat laying on the sink and flies swarming over it.

  Near the fireplace, picture frames hung on the wall With Dom and his family.

  Dom then went upstairs carefully treading in case something waited above. A small hallway had several planks blocking the entrance to the rooms, except for one, which was wide open. Dom peek through it finding a man sitting on a chair gazing at something on his desk.

  Dom stood quietly in the doorway; the man abruptly threw the object to the floor and mumbled in anger. “For years…The demons have tormented me from within this crap; you don’t know how hard it is…to hear loud voices in your head every second! Someone like you couldn’t contend with it.” Turning his head, the man reveals to be… Dom’s father.

  “Oh, God…Of course! The potion wore off, so now you came back and tried to be sentimental,”

  His father got off the chair and began walking closer to him.

  “In this place, I am a shallow of the man I use to be…the man now is currently a demon that lust’s for drinking and let his kids suffer from his pain. For that, I apologize to you and your brother.”

  “You lie! The scars were all too real…so much pain…the words coming from your mouth feel no regret; you will always be a drunken swine…you will never change,”

  “Now the time has come, for you to kill me…defeat the demon and free me from my sins, then more truth shall be revealed soon enough.” His eyes turn white, and soon the sinister smirk evolves in place.

  Dom charge towards him with his machete held high; before having the chance to strike, the demon’s hand caught the blade before it hit. The beast took a second to smile and swung a fist at Dom sending him flying out of the room. Dom coughs a spout of blood, trying to contend with his pain in the chest, nearly breathing became difficult after one of his bones dislocate. The entity rushes over, Dom grabbed his machete in one hand, while the other struggled to mobilize, so he threw the blade at the demon striking part of his face.

  The demon moans in pain before collapsing to the floor; Dom then stood on his feet shaking not only with aching but also with fear. He pulls the saber from the bag and slowly moves towards the fallen being. Dom stabilizes his movements and aims to incrust the sword into the demons’ body.

  The demon grabs his ankle while laughing as it slowly cracks the bones, making Dom trip. Dom exhaled heavily to stab the demon's chest thoroughly, the creature screeched as it soon died out, loosening the grip around his ankle. Unexpectedly, the saber transformed into a stone that stuck along with the demon’s body; clenching its handle the sword could not pull away from the stone body, so Dom gave up and fell to the floor wheezing agonizing pain from his wounds, rapidly descending to unconsciousness.

  Dom awoke still in the same room with the stone body, but to his surprise, the wounds on his body mysteriously disappeared along with the pain. His breathing was regular, along with his heartbeats; this only proves that the old man gave him abilities in the woods, which helps rehabilitate his injuries. Dom puts this lousy experience aside until he searches a way to reunite with Pedro.

  Over the desk, papers were laid out describing some image. The sheets were leaning on the writing table containing pictures and drawings of Dom’s mother. However, one of the photographs caught the eye; it was the painting with his mother in a white dress in a menacing split-appearance, showing a resemblance to a kind of devil. Dom found it so disturbing that he rips the picture apart to never lay eyes on it again. Soon enough, he found a memento hiding between the paper sheets; he looks it up, knowing it would explain further details.

  At the bottom of the page, he found his father’s name below the wave of sentences including a dagger in heart symbol, which he saw earlier in the cottage. The cursive writing was sloppy making it difficult for Dom to understand, reading the memento, he skips through the unnecessary parts, until coming across occult secrets that relate his family to the dark Amoras.

  At one point, he read.

  “I can’t take this any longer; my mind is about to explode. I am sick of hearing the voices of hell; I must figure a way to save the children and undue this damn curse. I fear how soon the bitch will sacrifice them as she did with my father. I must kill her before my mind is swallowed by madness.” Dom drops the paper, fill in confusion, trying to understand how his parents were involved with the Amoras, but the fact that his father played the paranoid one all along, made him rethink his tragic childhood.

  The strange object his father threw brought his full attention, he picks it up finding outlandish designs even depicting ancient drawings of what appear to be people. The device had a square shape with a red crystal in the center. Dom had no clue what it could do, so he pokes the center crystal feeling an intense energy coming from it. Just like that, the glass dispersed to form at the center of a yellow eye that released a hallucinogenic red light. Dom could not turn away in time, becoming still as a statue after the light struck into his eyes.

  After a while, he regains his senses and throws the box away. Dom continually blinks after feeling a stagger in his brain; he then looks around the room discovering it was utterly dark. The stone body also disappeared; he became worried thinking the demon was still alive.

  He exits the room finding some light downstairs, even the rooms in the hallway were somehow open, except for the one he broke through. Entering the ground floor, he found what appears to be his parents sitting in the living room. For a moment, he assumed his eyes deceived him after recently finding his father upstairs, but he could not imagine seeing his mother appear too. He had the desire to cry, after seeing her once more, thinking this place is a cruel joke.

  “Mom! Dad!” No answer, they remain quiet as Dom approach in an attempt to touch their shoulders. To his surprise, he fazes through without feeling the slightest bit.

  “What’s going on…?” His heart rose in panic as his entire body went through everything in the house except the floor.

  Dom then heard voices coming from his head; he look around the room thinking another entity was out to rid him. However, one of the voices sounded like his father, so he tried to calm down and listen carefully, as his father began wishing to kill his mother.

  Then noises of arriving cars outside alerted Dom’s father into paranoia.

  As his mother left the living room, she went upstairs to rest in her bedroom. Instead of pondering elsewhere, Dom’s father remained in place, not moving an inch from his position. He had his hands on his knees, while his eyes froze staring at the moving clock.

  Dom did not quite understand his strange behavior, until catching a closer look on his face. A long-thin urchin crawled inside the skin of his cheek, slowly reaching to his head. It vanished from sight after that; Dom could feel a tension rising in his chest, as he witnessed evil taking form. Dom’s father regained purpose and got up from the couch to pick up his double barrel off a wall near the staircase. “What are you going to do now dad?” His father’s behavior was unusual as he slowly shifted towards the window peeking through the curtains. Dom tried to figure out why his father was paranoid all of the sudden. Soon enough, Dom’s father ran out the living room speeding through the staircase. Dom approaches the window finding a van dropping off a group of masked men dressed in red; they carry an odd symbol on their foreheads and clothing, like members of a cult.

  “Hide the kids! Then hurry.”

  Upstairs, his mother locks the children’s door, going to a separate room to get a particular bottle. While Dom’s father scurried back downstairs with a fearful look, loading his double barrel with a few shells.

 
; The doorknob flew off; the men kick the door, pointing their guns at Dom’s father.

  “Drop your weapon!” They demanded, and so he did throwing it across the room. They dragged him into a room while restraining him.

  “Where did you hid the box?” One of the men interrogated. *No Answer*… they smack him around with their weapons, even breaking one of his joints with a gunshot.

  “I’m not gonna repeat myself, where’s the box?” The man demanded.

  “Does it matter…you might as well put a bullet in me.”

  Dom saw his mother slowly going down the steps, drinking a bottle. “Mom! Don’t!” She gasps, witnessing the murder of her husband. The men quickly notice her, so one of them walked after her.

  In a moment, she transformed into something different, scaring both the men and Dom. Her hair was completely white, and her eyes glow brightly covering her pupils.

  One of the men soon met a terrible death, as his head exploded shockingly into the ceiling.

  “Shoot her!” All bullets flew through the air piercing into her skin. She held her hand up exploding multiple brains; soon she fell to the ground unable to withstand the pain, slowly breathing as she coughs more blood, then transforming back into a human form.

  One of the men, approach and finish her by putting one shot into her skull.

  “What the hell was that thing?”

  “Don’t know, find the box and let’s get out of here quick! The men scurried to search the house; Dom exited by the front door knowing how the rest turned out.

  Outside, the sandstorm appears again covering away many things it passes. Dom felt a throb hurting his chest, as his expression was empty and his mind was somewhere else. He exhales very softly while paying his final respects to his parents while trying to amend the open wounds left behind in his recent memory. While the sandstorm arrived, it blinded the night skies and swept away the house. Dom closed his eyes, letting his tears run free, as the wind currents sent him flying high in the air making him faint again.